


Let Go

by rpfwriters



Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Language, Light Angst, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Rough Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 00:25:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18377150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rpfwriters/pseuds/rpfwriters
Summary: You help Chris relax after a hard day at work.





	Let Go

Chris was  _extremely_  frustrated. It had been a long day on set with lots of dialogue which meant people were more likely to screw around and mess up their lines. And, no matter how many times one of the Russo brothers expressed their displeasure, people kept fucking around. It was driving Chris crazy. By the time the directing duo called it a day, Chris was ready to pull his hair out and scream.

He stormed into the house, slamming the door behind him, grunting as Dodger threw himself at his owner’s legs. After scratching behind Dodger’s ears, Chris slipped off his shoes and strode into the kitchen. A cold beer was retrieved from the fridge and he swallowed the liquid quickly, gasping for air once his lips left the glass bottle.

“Rough day?” you asked, arms crossed, hip propped against the door frame.

“Yeah,” he scoffed, not even looking at you. “One of the worst.”

Sighing, you crossed the room and stood in front of him, giving him a sad smile. “I’m sorry, baby.”

Chris let out a shuddering breath and shrugged. “It’s just… part of my anxiety. We’re there to do a job, you know? All they wanted to do was fuck around.”

“And you just wanted to run the scenes and get out of there,” you added, your hands on his waist, feet between his.

He nodded, a huff of agreement leaving him. “Sorry.”

“No,” you gently scolded him. “You don’t need to apologize.”

Chris dipped down and brushed his lips against yours. “Thank you.”

“For what?” you hummed, leaning into the hand on your face.

“Being so understanding,” he answered. “And for meeting me in nothing but a shirt, my shirt, to be exact.”

“This old thing?” you teased, pulling the hem further up your thighs. “Do you want it back?”

Chris’ eyes flashed, eradicating any anxiety he felt before. You pushed up to your toes and caught his lips in yours, kissing him passionately. He hauled you off the floor by your thighs, groaning against your tongue as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Your fingers were in his hair, tugging on the longer strands as he carried you into the the living room, dropping onto the couch when his need to feel all of you became too great to ignore.

You shoved the shirt up his chest. “Off,” you instructed.

Chris reached behind his head and pulled off the offending piece of clothing. “Better?”

“Much,” you gasped against his ear, your nails scraping through his thick beard.

You nipped at the lobe before biting, licking, and sucking a trail down his neck and over his collar bones. The sight of the dark lettering against his skin always made your stomach drop. You drug your nails over the tattoo as you pressed sloppy kisses to his sternum.

Much to his chagrin, you moved off of his lap until you were kneeling between his legs, mouth still working against his skin, from one nipple to the other. You flicked your tongue over the tight buds, scraped your teeth over them, and sucked on them until Chris was hissing, his hips rolling, his fingers flexing against your scalp.

You undid his jeans as you kissed and licked his stomach, the taut muscles twitching in anticipation. Chris raised his hips and hooked his thumbs into the tops of his jeans and boxer briefs, helping you shove them down his legs. With the denim and cotton out of the way, you took hold of Chris’ thick and heavy cock, and pressed your tongue flat against the bottom of it, dragging it up his twitching length.

“Jesus,” he panted as you took him into your mouth, your tongue flicking into the slit, collecting the tangy drops of pre-cum.

You took him deeper into your mouth, inch by inch, swirling your tongue around the wide head. When he hit the back of your throat, your mouth and your eyes watered, but you didn’t stop. Your hand twisted around the base, the veins pulsing against your skin when you swallowed around his cock.

Needing  _more_ , Chris tightened his grip in your hair and thrust up. Filthy and gritty praises fell from his lips as he fucked your mouth. His head fell back and the air was tearing in and out of him, echoing the obscenely wet sucking sounds that filled the room. Your nose brushed through the patch of ginger curls that surrounded his cock as your head bobbed up and down, faster and faster, until your head swam, until tears streamed down your face.

“Fuck, baby. I’m… I’m gonna -”

You palmed his balls and massaged them, quickly sending Chris over the edge. He came into your mouth with a series of grunts that sounded an awful lot like your name. You swallowed him down, every hot and sticky drop of him, sucking greedily on the overstimulated flesh.

His trembling and softening cock slipped from your mouth and he gave you a sly smirk when you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“My turn,” he growled, surging off the couch.


End file.
